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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880679">Evensong</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/douchegrayson/pseuds/douchegrayson'>douchegrayson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Castlevania (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, set somewhere during their time in the Belmont Hold, this is a little sad thing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 02:00:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880679</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/douchegrayson/pseuds/douchegrayson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s a burial song”, he said and pushed himself up, dusting his knees off. “Belmont’s rarely died of old age. If a hunt went wrong, we would clean the body of any wounds and poisons, dress them in their nicest robes and burn them.” he said. </p><p>“Wouldn’t want any body to be left that could come back, you know?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Evensong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so richard armitage, huh</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The Belmont Hold was vast. </p><p> </p><p>That was the first thought Sypha had as they descended the countless stairs towards the bottom most level of the archive. They had decided to work their way up again in search for the spell to hold Dracula’s castle in place. </p><p> </p><p>Ever since entering, Trevor had fallen into an odd silence. </p><p> </p><p>Of course, here and there he would provide trivia or help locating things but since he himself couldn’t read magic - Alucard still half doubted he could read at all - he had taken to wander the rows of books, occasionally peaking into a wayward chest, only to come up with dusty garments that were no longer wearable or old weapons he never learned how to wield.</p><p> </p><p>So most of the research was left to Alucard and Sypha. </p><p> </p><p>The blonde Dhampir couldn’t say that he was a fan of wandering the dusty halls. The place was a constant reminder that he traveled with a member of a family whose sole purpose had been to destroy his kind. To kill his father. </p><p> </p><p>In an odd twist of fate, Alucard supposed, he was a hunter now himself. </p><p> </p><p>He stood in front of one of the glass cabinets that displayed rows of vampire skulls of all ages - courtesy of one Sonia Belmont - and didn’t know if he should compliment her for her ability to deliver one precise blow and keep most of the skull intact or be disgusted by the fact that she had grabbed the body of a child - vampire or not - and skinned and boiled it until the skull had come out as clean as it had. </p><p> </p><p>Alucard bared his teeth at the thought and turned his head away. He no longer wished to look at this. </p><p> </p><p>His mother would have been disgusted at the display. </p><p> </p><p>There was no doubt that the Belmonts had done humanity a great service, since they not only hunted Vampires, but all sorts of beasts as well but the thought helped little to quell the loathing that had gathered in the deepest pit of Alucard’s stomach. <br/><br/>Where was their hunter anyway?</p><p> </p><p>This morning, after a sparse breakfest of dried meat and some bread, he had taken to wandering the halls once more. Alucard had almost been annoyed with him. He should be with them, browsing through the books with them and pick out whatever looked interesting. They didn’t have forever to pin his father’s castle in one place.</p><p> </p><p>Sypha had put a hand to his arm, in a soft and chiding way. “Leave him”, she had said “this is his family’s heirloom. You’ve seen the way he had looked as we tried to find the entrance.” she said and Alucard supposed he had understood. In a way.</p><p> </p><p>A weird smell caught Alucard’s nose and he frowned. Something was burning somewhere deeper in these endless walls but it didn’t smell like wood or paper.</p><p> </p><p>Rather-</p><p> </p><p>“Frankincense?” Alucard mumbled to himself and his head perked up as a low humming reached his ears. It was surprisingly melodic and seemed not to miss a note. </p><p> </p><p>Sypha must have heard it, too, because she had dropped her book and joined Alucard’s side. “Am I going crazy?” she asked and Alucard shook his head. “Either we have an intruder or the Belmont is singing.”</p><p> </p><p>On second thought - maybe Sypha <em> was </em> going crazy. And Alucard was, too, because there was no way that Trevor Belmont was singing. Alucard had never heard his voice even say pleasant words, so singing was probably the farest on his mind right now.</p><p> </p><p>The Dhampir blinked as he noticed that Sypha had simply started walking towards the sound, determination in her step and a small fireball at the tip of her fingers, in case there really was an intruder that was messing with them.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Far over the misty mountains cold, to dungeons deep and caverns old </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>No, that was unmistankingly Trevor’s voice. Deep and ragged, rusty at times from years of disuse. As they moved closer to the sound, the rows of books lightened up until they stepped into a stone corridor that led to a tiny chapel.</p><p> </p><p>Stone arches were build to carry the singing deep into the Hold, the humming that had opened the song was still resounding between the pillars, creating a back-up for Trevor - who was kneeling at the head of the chapel, head cast down as a small bundle of frankincense burned before him in a copper bowl.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> We must away ere break of day. To find our long-forgotten gold. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Sypha caught Alucard’s gaze at the entrance of the chapel and neither of them dared to speak. As if they were scared to break a spell that Trevor had put over the place.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> The pines were roaring on the height. The winds were moaning in the night. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>His back was straight as a tree, the golden Belmont Crest that was woven on the back of his tunic was shimmering in the low light two candles provided. They were flickering in front of him. It was the only light source in the room. </p><p> </p><p>Trevor picked up his humming again, his voice growing stronger and louder as the song progressed. </p><p> </p><p>For Alucard, it was not hard to imagine a whole flock of male Belmonts, standing in a choir and filling the chapel with their voices. Trevor’s voice alone was enough to let Alucard feel his sorrow deep into his bones. </p><p> </p><p>Strangely, it had never occured to him that Trevor was someone that was … suffering. </p><p> </p><p>Which was foolish, of course. The man had lost his family at the tender age of twelve. When he should have been out in the woods and play.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> That was my tree. </em>” he remembered Trevor saying as they had passed the massive, hollowed out oak tree on their way to what once had been the Belmont Mansion. </p><p> </p><p>A darkness had passed over Trevor’s face, so unlike the usual grimness he wore on his face. </p><p> </p><p>No, it had looked more desperate. </p><p> </p><p>Alucard had meant to made a snide comment but he had stopped himself, coldly realizing that he’s had more of a childhood than Trevor had ever been allowed to.</p><p> </p><p>While he had sat in his mother’s study and had consumed every possible book at his complete leisure, Trevor had stumbled through Wallachia, hungry and excommunicated and completely by himself. It had made every word on Alucard’s tongue die down.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> The fire was red, it flaming spread. The trees like torches blazed with light. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere along the last lines, Trevor’s voice broke, the pleasant bass cracking with tears unshed. </p><p> </p><p>He resumed his humming after a moment, keeping it up until the last of the incense had burned and he just sat there.</p><p> </p><p>It was Sypha - always Sypha - who had enough courage to speak up. Sypha, who bridged the gap when Alucard and Trevor were too proud to.</p><p> </p><p>“Trevor?” she asked softly into the last tunes that faded out above them. Trevor must have known that they were there because he didn’t flinch. There was rarely a moment when the hunter wasn’t hyperaware of his surroundings. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s a burial song”, he said and pushed himself up, dusting his knees off. “Belmont’s rarely died of old age. If a hunt went wrong, we would clean the body of any wounds and poisons, dress them in their nicest robes and burn them.” he said. “Wouldn’t want any body to be left that could come back, you know?” </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t meet their eyes as he walked over to them, keeping the candles burning. “I’ve only ever seen two of these. I was too young to sing in the choir, my voice was too high.” he joked, half heartedly, but the smile faded.</p><p> </p><p>“But I still remember the song. It was comforting. We would use it to send the deceased on their last hunt.” he said. Sypha’s eyes shined at his words and she took his hand in her’s. “That sounds wonderful”, she said. “You should teach it to us, sometime. Right, Alucard?”</p><p> </p><p>Alucard was honestly surprised she would adress him. “Sure.” he said and Trevor scoffed. </p><p> </p><p>“I doubt you could sing deep enough to not make it sound like a weird love song.” he snorted and the other two were almost glad to hear the sneer back in his voice. </p><p> </p><p>There he was again, the Trevor Belmont that they had come to known and heck, maybe even like.</p><p> </p><p>“So”, Trevor said and straightened out his tunic “don’t we have a spell to find?”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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